my attempts at poetry and journaling. I enjoy both, as well as learning how to be a mom and balance everything in my life. I love my life but I sometimes feel hopelessly inadequate.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Minerva, pity party of one.

Sigh.

My son has gotten over the cold we both had last week, and seemed back to his sunny self today.

Other than that, today was, shall we say, challenging.

I was getting the boy ready for our afternoon walk when a sadly-familiar odor of urine wafted under my nose. Sure enough, our dog had taken a huge pee on my living room rug. Again. This time at least I can't blame myself because she had gone out on her regular schedule today. After we returned from the walk and I let her out again, I steam-cleaned the rug. It hadn't even had time to dry before I smelled something rather worse than pee. Yep, she decided to poop the biggest poop I've ever seen my 12 pound dog produce on the exact same spot. Anyone want a dog? Cheap? Free???

To top it off, I let myself blow off some steam on Facebook the other day by posting a status update related to my neighbor's daughter's trike being left on our common porch. My son sees it daily and has lately been carrying on or whining because he can't ride it. He doesn't have one yet but he will shortly. Anyway, I had made mention of the situation on Facebook, even throwing in the choice phrase of "stupid trike", and my neighbor saw it. Lovely. I don't think she liked me much to start with, but that certainly didn't help the situation. Of course I wrote her a message apologizing profusely and saying it wasn't her fault that my son was upset at all, there probably isn't anywhere else she can put it anyway, but I don't know if that will help things much. Sigh.

4 comments:

Anonymous
said...

Sorry to hear about your dog problem. We've got a similar cat problem; for no real obvious reason, Pixel (aka Prima Dona Cat) has started to lay down piles on the rug...but only when we aren't home, or are asleep, and in spite of a litter box that gets scooped religiously, every single night. So guess whose fuzzy little butt is confined to the small bathroom with her own litter box and supplies, whenever we aren't there and awake?

Unfortunately, there's a bit of unforeseen downside; it suits Diva Cat very well indeed to have her own private suite. I fear we've inadvertently reinforced the bad behaviour, but what else could we do? Toss her outside? She's partially declawed, it would be a potential death sentence, even if I thought throwing an indoor, strictly urban cat outside was a good idea, which I don't.